


It Changes Everything

by Saziikins



Series: Family Ties [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, M/M, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:32:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2741063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saziikins/pseuds/Saziikins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Lestrade," Sherlock said. "Excellent. You’re going to be a dad.”<br/>Greg laughed. “Uh. Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I know this. Thought you’d have realised this by now.”<br/>“No, I mean, you’re going to be a dad very soon. Your wife is in labour, and it’s happening very quickly and the ambulance isn’t here yet.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Changes Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Set six weeks before Object Permanence.
> 
> After how sad yesterday's story was, I needed something a little bit more uplifting!

The alarm clock felt like a drill pressing into his skull. With a groan, Greg slammed his hand down onto it, keeping his eyes closed.

From beside him, his wife let out a disconsolate sound. “Early,” she muttered, pulling the covers right up to her chin.

“Mmm,” Greg replied, finally opening his eyes into the pitch black room. “I know.”

He glanced over at Tessa, rolling onto his side so he could kiss her cheek. She managed a bit of a smile at that and Greg stroked her pregnant belly through the covers. He could hardly believe they were here. Having met only 15 months ago, it had been a whirlwind. A whirlwind he wouldn’t have changed for anything.

“What time did you even get to bed in the end?” she asked, not opening her eyes. “I think I slept right through.”

“God knows,” Greg said, sitting up and unplugging his phone charger. He opened up his emails. “Perhaps two o'clock, three maybe?”

“How is he?”

Greg paused for a moment, recalling pinning Sherlock’s wrists to the bed to stop him from thrashing. Remembering him shivering one moment, boiling hot the next. And then finally the painkillers began to kick in. But Greg still wasn’t allowed to leave, so he lay on one side of the spare bed, reading a book aloud about how fast dead bodies decomposed under certain conditions.

“He wasn’t too good last night,” Greg said. “Scratching. Said it felt like bugs were crawling under his skin. But he’s been worse.”

Tessa groaned. “You should have just tied his wrists to the headboard. Then you could have gone to sleep.”

“You know Sherlock,” Greg said, reluctantly sliding out of their warm bed. “He needs more than just cuffing to the headboard. He needs something to keep him occupied.”

“Then find him someone else to play with.”

Greg raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Got anyone who’ll volunteer for that?”

Tessa stayed quiet and Greg rifled through his drawers for his pants.

“I hope you dote on your children as much as you do Sherlock Holmes,” she said.

Greg smiled, eyeing her stomach, excitement fluttering in his stomach at just the thought of his unborn children. “I will,” he murmured, heading for the bathroom.

He was still half-asleep when he stepped out of the shower, opening the blinds and staring at the untouched snow outside. The lamppost gave it a yellow hue, the the whole street looking like some magical wasteland. He trudged downstairs, combing his fingers through his hair.

Sherlock was already awake, sprawled out along the sofa, a book in one hand, laptop on his knees. Greg made them both some toast, but he didn’t expect Sherlock to touch it. He yawned as he pulled on his green wellies.

“You feeling any better?” Greg asked as he put his coat on.

“Mostly," Sherlock replied. "My head hurts and my muscles ache. You’re leaving early.”

Greg nodded. “Mmm. It’s the snow. I reckon it’s going to take me at least an hour longer to get to work than usual.” He pulled his scarf on and walked over to the sofa to look at what Sherlock was doing. “Need anything?” he asked.

“No.”

Greg nodded, ruffling his hair and grinning when Sherlock squirmed to get away. “Right. See you later, Sherlock. Don’t annoy Tessa too much please, and if she needs anything, make sure you give it to her.”

Greg waited for Sherlock to comment. He allowed a few seconds of silence before heading for the front door, content that Sherlock’s silence was as good as an ‘okay’.

He spent 15 minutes de-icing his car before beginning the arduous trek across London. Fresh snow had fallen during the night, and the roads were not too slippery yet. He arrived to work unscathed and sat down with Sally to go over his reports.

“How’s the addict?” she asked, shoving a few pieces of paper across the desk for him to sign.

Greg tensed at her words, but he didn’t rise to it. Sally had seen enough of Sherlock high to last her a lifetime, and Greg couldn’t blame her for her reactions towards him. Even so, he was fiercely protective, though he knew no one else understood why.

“He’s fine,” he muttered, filling in his name and the date, already wishing the conversation about Sherlock would end.

“Don’t know why you bother,” she said. “You give him a 100 chances and he always lets you down.”

“No, he doesn’t let me down,” he replied evenly. “He lets himself down. But he doesn’t owe me anything.”  

“I can’t believe you let him live with you.”

“No, no, no,” Greg said quickly, frowning at her. “No. He doesn’t live with me. He gets clean, then he leaves.”

“Right,” Sally muttered, rolling her eyes. “Look, I’m just thinking of you. You’re going to be a dad soon.”

“Mmm.” Greg paused. Oh God, he was going to be a dad soon. In just a few short weeks. He looked up at her. “Yeah, I am. And you know what, Sherlock’s already read all the baby books. Actually, he hasn’t given them back yet, but that’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“The point… the point is that Sherlock’s a very smart bloke, and he’ll be able to teach mine and Tessa’s kids all sorts of stuff.”

Sally raised her eyebrows. “Like decay and blood spatters and pictures of dead bodies.”

Greg shook his head and handed Sally some papers. “Just read these and stop talking about Sherlock, okay?”

“Fine,” she murmured.

Despite the snow, or maybe because of it, it was a quiet day for the serious crime division. The road traffic teams were less relaxed, with numerous crashes on the icy roads. But in the Yard, the heaters were up full blast, and Greg sat in his office finally catching up with weeks worth of paperwork.

He stared outside the window as the blustery winds blew the snow around, the other side of the road barely visible through the white. Snow had never been his favourite thing in the world, but it was mesmerising nonetheless. He wouldn’t have minded it half as much if he had been at home on the sofa with his wife.

He almost didn’t answer when Sherlock’s name appeared on his mobile. He knew Sherlock’s calls. ‘I’m bored, let me visit a crime scene’. ‘Can you buy me a takeaway?’ ‘Bring me my laptop’. He didn’t fancy listening to Sherlock rant or beg for cases. But sitting back in his chair, he pressed accept anyway. “Yep?” he asked, reaching for his coffee.

“Lestrade. Excellent. You’re going to be a dad.”

Greg laughed. “Uh. Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I know this. Thought you’d have realised this by now.”

“No, I mean, you’re going to be a dad very soon. Your wife is in labour, and it’s happening very quickly and the ambulance isn’t here yet.”

Greg frowned. He put his mug down on the table before he spilt his coffee. “Wait.” Greg stood up, almost knocking the chair over. “Now? She’s in labour now?”

“It’s fine,” Sherlock said. “It’s all fine.”

Greg slammed his hand down on his desk. “It is not bloody fine! Where the hell is the ambulance?”

“There was a snow storm, perhaps you saw it?”

“Sherlock!”

There was a slight pause before Sherlock spoke again. “There’s every possibility I’m going to deliver your children.”

Greg felt a flash of terror almost overawe him. He stepped away from his desk, his blood running cold. “No. No, no, no, you tell her to wait for the ambulance you hear me? You are not delivering my kids. She needs to be in hospital.”

“We might not have a choice.”

“Sherlock! Give her the phone.”

“No. She’s doing her breathing. I’m hanging up now.”

“No, no, Sherlock! Sherlock!” He stared down at his phone. “Bastard!” He stared at the walls of his office before grabbing his coat from the back of the chair. “Sodding hell!” he yelled out. Despite the fear spilling through his veins, he couldn’t move. His feet were planted to the floor.

Forcing himself to get a grip, he counted to five and then he marched to his door, yanking it open. “Tessa’s in labour,” he called out to no one in particular, shaking his head. “I’ve gotta…”

Dimmock was sitting on his desk, and grinned up at him. “Yeah. Good plan. Go.”

“Sherlock,” Greg continued. “He. He said the ambulance…”

“Go!”

“Right,” Greg murmured. “Go.” He caught sight of Sally at the printer and he stared at her for a moment. “Sal.”

“I heard,” she said. “Go. Go and see her now.”

Greg swallowed and jogged through the building, heading out towards the car park. He dialled Sherlock’s mobile over and over as he ran out to the car, but it only went to his voicemail. Tessa wasn’t picking up her phone or the house phone either.

The driving conditions were treacherous. It took him half an hour just to get a few roads away from the Yard. He had a good, trustworthy car but he wasn’t used to driving in the snow while it still whirled past his car. And all the while, he saw a million terrible scenarios playing out in his head.

Giving birth at home was bad enough with one baby. But Tessa was having two, and they were a few weeks early, even for twins. And she was with Sherlock. And though Greg supported Sherlock in a way no one else did, he was still going through withdrawal. And this whole thing was a horrible nightmare.

After 50 minutes of driving, his phone rang. He answered it via the hands-free, his heart pounding. “Yup?”

“We’re being taken to hospital,” Sherlock said. “Saint Mary’s.”

“Hospital,” Greg repeated. “Is she…”

“Everyone’s fine,” Sherlock said. “Well. I’m scarred for life, but Tessa’s fine and there’s 20 fingers and 20 toes and two really pink children.”

“Children,” Greg whispered. “They’re… already… you…”

“Lestrade. Don’t crash. Keep your eyes on the road.”

Greg swallowed and turned down a side street so he could drive towards the hospital. “They’re born? They’re alright?”

“Yes. The ambulance didn’t make it on time, but they’re both fine.”

“Stay with her, Sherlock. Do not leave her side until I get there, you got me?”

There was a pause before Sherlock answered. “It’s a boy and a girl,” he said, his voice soft.

“I know,” Greg said with a smile, the tension draining away. “We saw the scans.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“Didn’t tell anyone,” Greg laughed. “Stay with her. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

He all but ran to the delivery suite when he arrived at the hospital. His pulse was racing as he opened the door. He took a deep breath as he surveyed the scene.

Tessa was fast asleep on the bed, her fingers wrapped around a pink baby blanket. Sherlock was sat by her bedside, a child cradled in his arms. His dark hair had fallen in front of his eyes as he gazed down at the baby.

Greg took a step into the room, pulling his gloves off and pocketing them. “Hey,” he whispered, looking around. He walked towards the two tiny cots, touching the side of one of them. The pink-faced baby was fast asleep. She, he, whichever it was, had a tiny nose and a little mouth. Impossibly small fingers. Greg turned around to look at both Sherlock and then his wife.

“They’re quite ugly,” Sherlock said quietly, not even looking up from the child in his arms.

“Shut up,” Greg said with a smile. He walked over to him, standing beside the chair. He reached down to brush his finger against the baby’s tiny cheek. “Which one’s this?” he asked.

“Girl baby. Boy baby was sick on my coat.”

Greg laughed and squeezed Sherlock’s shoulder before going back to the bed to check on his son. He carefully reached in, wincing when he began to cry. “Shh,” he soothed, blinking back the tears in his eyes as he held the youngster to his chest. Greg swallowed and shook his head, hardly believing this was happening. “Shh, little man,” he whispered, smiling and crying all the same.

He took a seat beside Sherlock, his eyes flicking between the two babies. Sherlock was quieter than he’d ever seen him, his whole body relaxed.

“You doing alright?” Greg asked quietly.

“Mmm. Maybe. Mostly.”

“You’re not in pain?”

“Don’t ask him if he’s in pain,” Tessa murmured tiredly from the bed. “I’m the one who just delivered two babies.”

Greg chuckled and stood up, walking towards her and sitting on the edge of the bed. He ducked his head to kiss her temple. She smiled at him through half-lidded eyes. “How you feeling?” Greg asked.

“Like I gave birth to two babies. Like Sherlock Holmes just delivered your kids.”

Greg laughed and glanced down at the baby boy.

“You need to name them,” Tessa said, sitting up as Sherlock carried the second twin over to them. “Thank you, love,” she said to Sherlock, carefully taking her daughter from him. Sherlock nodded and made for the door. “Stay,” Tessa said. “If you want.”

Greg watched as Sherlock froze, his hand already stretched out to open the door. But he dropped his arm, turning and walking back to his chair. Greg smiled at him and nodded. It was right, he thought. After today, after what Sherlock had done, it was only right that he stayed.

“Names then,” Tessa said, ever the pragmatist.

“Sherlock,” the man in question said quickly.

Greg laughed and shook his head. “No, tough luck. We’ve already decided the boy’s called Matthew. Named after my dad.”

Sherlock raised his chin, leaning back in his chair. “Sherlock’s really a girl’s name you know.”

Greg grinned and shook his head. “Nope. I’m not falling for that one.”

“I delivered these children,” Sherlock pressed with a frown on his face. “I think I deserve some say.”

“Me and Tess made these children, so I think we each get 50 per cent of the say.”

“A third of the say,” Sherlock countered. “Each. I get the other third.”

“Sherlock, I’m not naming a kid after you. Not because I don’t like you, but because well… no offence, but I don’t want to name them Sherlock.”

“William,” he said.

Greg frowned at him. “You what?”

“My name. William Sherlock Scott Holmes is my full name.”

Greg blinked for a second, glancing down at Matthew as he made a gurgling sound. He turned his attention back at Sherlock. “Wait. You  _choose_  to be called Sherlock?”

“Shut up,” Sherlock snapped at him, but his eyes were sparkling with mirth, not anger.

“Really?” Greg grinned. “Your name is _William_?”

"Yes, Gary, it is."

" _Greg_ for God's sake." 

“Oh, you two, go and get a room,” Tessa muttered. “William would make a very nice middle name. Matthew William Lestrade. I suppose it’s the least we can do.”

“And Lily,” Sherlock said. “Because it sounds William.”

“Now you’re getting greedy,” Greg grinned.

“It’s a perfectly pleasant name. It’s not too common, but no one will ever mispronounce it.”

“Lily and Matthew,” Tessa whispered. “I think. I think I like it actually. Lily Grace Lestrade. Matthew William Lestrade.”

“Grace?” Sherlock asked.

“Tradition in my family,” Greg said. “Someone’s either a Greg or a Grace.”

“That’s very strange,” Sherlock murmured.

“Mmm. I know.” They both gazed at each other for a moment before Greg bent down to kiss the heads of his two children.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Sherlock said.

“I’ll walk you out.” Greg carefully handed Matthew to Tessa, kissing her forehead and whispering that he loved her. He walked with Sherlock out of the room and to the hospital lobby.

“You going home or to mine?” Greg asked him as they stood near the automatic doors, a gust of cold air heading their way every time someone left the building.

“I’ll go home. Get out of from under your feet.”

Greg shook his head. “You know you’re welcome, Sherlock. Any time. The kids don’t change anything.”

“You’re an idiot,” Sherlock replied, shaking his head. They both fell quiet, as though sharing one common thought: This does change everything.

“I know,” Greg said with a wistful smile, as he held the man’s blue eyes, both stood unmoving. Greg was forced to look away first, unable to stare into those eyes for long. “But after today… thank you.”

Sherlock nodded at him. Greg grinned back and stepped forward before pulling him into a tight hug.

“God’s sake,” Sherlock muttered, not returning the embrace.

“Indulge me,” Greg said, laughing. “It’s been a stressful day.”

They stayed still for a few moments, Greg with his arms wrapped tightly around him, his eyes pinched closed. “I’m a dad,” he finally whispered, shaking his head. “I don’t… how…”

“Stop,” Sherlock said. “Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t want to hear it. You’ll be fine. You’ve dealt with me for three years already, I’m sure you’ll cope with two babies.”

Greg laughed and nodded, rubbing his face as he stepped back from the hug. “Don’t be a stranger, Sherlock.”

Sherlock kept a neutral expression as he turned around, his black coat billowing behind him as he marched out of the hospital. Greg watched him go before heading back to the room.

He sat down on the side of the bed, cradling Lily and cooing to her.

“How’s Sherlock?” Tessa asked after a moment.

“He’ll be fine.”

Greg glanced up just in time to see Tessa’s forced smile before she turned her attention back to fussing over her newborns. 


End file.
